Bottom Line – Alt Ending

A Day Off

By Rona

“Vince, put the gun down,” Johnny urged, his voice climbing as his panic grew. He had his hands raised, his eyes riveted to the gun that Officer Vince Howard was pointing at his midriff.

For a moment, the officer glanced into the interior of the ambulance. Johnny grabbed his chance and lunged for the gun, wrapped his hand around Vince’s. But the officer was experienced and even though he had a head injury, he knew better than to let himself be disarmed. Grabbing Johnny’s hair with his left hand, he hauled the paramedic off balance and threw him onto the ground. Johnny’s head cracked painfully off the asphalt pavement, the gun clouting him on the temple, and he saw stars. Still, he hung on.

Belatedly, the rest of 51s realised what was going on and rushed over to help Johnny. There was a scrum of bodies as they fought to gain control of the weapon. Johnny somehow regained his feet, unaware that he had a huge patch of road rash down his left arm and a bleeding scrape on his face. He lunged back into the fray, his hand reaching for the gun.

It was complete chaos. Nobody knew whose hand was on the trigger when it went off. All they knew was that there was a deafening report and Roy sagged to the ground. Vince collapsed, his eyes three quarters shut.

“Roy!” Cap yelled, realising that his senior paramedic was on the ground. “John…” He turned in time to see Johnny’s knocks on the head catch up with him as the younger man collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

“Give me the trauma box out of there!” Cap yelled to the ambulance attendant, who had been watching the whole thing with an open mouth. “Hurry!” He grabbed the box and knelt by Roy, throwing it open to snatch up a sterile pad, which he laid on the growing bloodstain on the paramedic’s shoulder. Roy groaned at the contact.

“Let me,” slurred a voice and Cap looked up to see Johnny kneeling on Roy’s other side. The younger man looked awful, his face lumpy with growing bruising, his eyes not quite as focused as usual. Cap opened his mouth to protest, but Johnny ignored him. “Give me the biophone,” he requested and opened the orange box. “Someone take a blood pressure,” he requested. “Rampart this is Squad 51, how do you read me?”

“Go ahead, 51,” responded Brackett. “What’s the hold up?” He sounded worried.

“Uh, Rampart, we’ve had an incident. We have one Code I. Victim 1 suddenly became combative. There was a gun shot and a firefighter was hit in the shoulder.” Johnny swallowed. “Vitals are as follows.  BP 100/ 60; pulse 100; respirations 25 and shallow. The victim is unconscious at this time but responds to pain.”

“51, insert IV Ringers Lactate and transport immediately.”

“Ringers Lactate and transport. 10-4 Rampart,” Johnny repeated. He dropped the receiver and reached for the IV. Chet handed it to him. Marco began to pack up the biophone. All the men were watching Johnny. None of them wanted to disturb him because they didn’t know what would happen.

Deftly, Johnny inserted the IV and found that there was a gurney standing by. He supervised loading Roy onto it, the older man moaning as he was moved and then he climbed into the back of the ambulance. Cap looked at Johnny worriedly. “Are you all right, Johnny?” he asked, the memory of his junior paramedic collapsing still fresh in his mind’s eye.

“I’m fine,” Johnny replied. His eyes were on Roy throughout. “We need to move, Cap.”

Reluctantly, Cap shut the ambulance doors and gave them the customary two taps. “Chet, take the squad in. We’ll be right at your back,” he said.

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The gurney was pushed into treatment three, with Johnny relaying the up-dated vitals on all patients. Vince and the original victim went with Joe Early and Mike Morton into other rooms. Johnny stuck with Roy. Dixie threw him a look when he went in, but Johnny’s attention was solely on Roy, who was conscious by then.

Quickly Brackett assessed the situation. Roy had been lucky – the bullet had gone right through his shoulder. The damage seemed to be minimal, but he would know more once he’d seen the x-rays. He gave his orders and turned to Johnny.

“He’s going to be fine, Johnny,” he told the young man soothingly. “What happened?”

“Vince, he… he…” Johnny suddenly lost all colour and his knees buckled. It was only thanks to Brackett’s quick reflexes that Johnny didn’t hit the floor. “Get a gurney, stat!” Brackett yelled, supporting Johnny’s weight. For a skinny guy, he sure was heavy.

Within minutes, Johnny was stretched out on a gurney beside Roy, with Brackett peering in his eyes. “His pupils are sluggish,” he reported. “Looks like a concussion. I want a full skull series for him when x-ray gets here.” His words might have been a cue, for the door opened and the machine came in. “Stay right there, Johnny,” he ordered the semi-conscious man.

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“Roy will be out for a few weeks until that bullet wound heals,” Brackett reported later to the crew of 51. Joanne DeSoto was there too. “Johnny has a concussion but there’s no sign of a skull fracture. We’ll keep him here overnight at least, maybe another day, depending on how he’s doing. Roy ought to be able to go home tomorrow. I’d wait till tomorrow before you guys visit. Joanne, you can go up now.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. “Well,” Cap sighed, standing up. “Back to business as usual. B shift’s paramedics are coming in to do an extra half shirt and then…” He grinned. “That’s not actually my problem!” “Thanks, Doc.”

“You know,” Chet mused, as they walked back to the squad and engine. “I’d have thought it would be Gage who’d have got shot, not Roy.”

Mike Stoker shrugged. “Everyone’s entitled to a day off,” he remarked.

The End

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Stories by Rona          Bottom Line Challenge